Excuse Me?
by Foul Fountain of Flies
Summary: Typical case AU; princess is forced to marry Lord Alien Frieza, refuses, and is then asked to propose instead to the Lord’s foster son, the Prince. BV. On-going.
1. Default Chapter

Excuse Me?

Disclaimer: you know the rules, I borrow and somebody else owns. Tough luck it'd be otherwise.

Summary: Typical case AU; princess is forced to marry Lord Alien Frieza, refuses, and is then asked to propose instead to the Lord's foster son, the Prince. B/V. On-going.

A/N: I can't think seriously in all my life so expect this to be comical (a little). My first Dragon Ball Z fic and probably my only non-yaoi fic. So…what to expect? Read on.

Warning: I swear a lot in my fanfics, really. This one is just like any other. Bear with it if you please.

Chapter I

Bulma's POV

Screw this. Mom and Dad just got another missive from the outer space for the one hundredth time (I suppose it's the 27342845938th but what the hell; I lost count) saying this and that, demanding this and that, and threatening to blow up this whole goddamn thing otherwise known as the planet earth. You know, they've been doing that for so long and not even an extra terrestrial dust ever touched this soil I'm standing on. That's just what those bullying aliens are; all words, no actions. For the past one hundred million years that they've been sending those crap notes 'we're gonna conquer you!' and not even the first step of the operation has been covered. Hell, they haven't even sent a little ET just to warn us of their arrival!

So a little earlier we were dining in the Royal Dining Hall; me, mom, and dad and a whole lotta servants attending to us. Useless. And then Chichi, the head maid came rushing in to announce another note of the kind. It was signed by some odd name called Frieza with a haughty word 'Lord' before it as usual. Whatever lord of he was; maybe lord of half witted fly killers. But the note was concise; 'give up the kingdom or we'll blow you up.' As I've said I'm no longer blown away by that kind of shit he gives us; the first time, that was about 12 years ago, was ominously frightening because it was new but this time, more than a decade of being bombarded by notes like that, is just pointless. Corny. It's just like the plays I watch when I go to town incognito and watch public stage plays and circus. Typical bad guy wants to rule the world and usurp the monarchs so he can satisfy his greed with the overwhelming wealth stocked in their treasure room. Sometimes they even go beyond ordinary by raping the girl princess of the palace and forcing her to marry the ugly leader and so on. Ha! I see that crap all the time and nothing ever changes things because guess what? A hero surely comes in and beats the bad guys' asses out! Okay, that's fiction. A product of a half educated playwright's fancy. And this one, my family's case, is for real. Darn, I hate to admit it but this note is different from the 752038 rest because Lord Frieza placed a PS saying that they'll be here by tomorrow morning, finally. And they're gonna wipe out the hell of our lives in no time. He sounds excited but more importantly, he sounds like he really means it. The fucking sick sonuvabitch. I wonder who my hero could be. Gokou? Krillin? Yamcha? Tien? I don't know, and I don't think they could take on a spaceship full of distorted creatures with fanciful colors. Damn, I hate being a royal. I hate being fucking targeted all the time just because I have a room brimming with jingles, whatever you call those stones.

Next day.

Just woke up. It's 7:30 in the morning. I head down to get a grab of my breakfast with my folks. Mom and dad seem jumpy. Mom is even greenish in color, maybe nauseated. But not as much as looking nervous. Dad is no better. Look at him, he hardly even touches his food and, god, is he fucking trembling?

'What's wrong?' I ask, slicing my roast beef and potatoes before placing them to my mouth. Delicious.

'They've come.' My parents chorus in a solemn undertone.

'What? Who came?' I ask, still enjoying the juicy meat.

'Lord Frieza and his crew.'

'What the fuck! But…they haven't killed anyone yet, have they?' I drop my meat knife, together with what's left of the chewed meat in my mouth. I don't think my parents would have it to bother with my etiquette again but this is serious to have a row about petty table manners. Here we are, the royal family, eating in abundance on this gold plated table when our men are out there, possibly being murdered in queues!

'I don't know.' My father says. But by his looks, it seems like the animals are done with genocide. 'They said they'd have us executed after they decimated the population.' That's it. Just what I've been dying to hear.

'Oh, so the mass murdering fuckers are nice enough not to let our people see us hanged. Great. Where are our warriors anyway?' I shout.

'In the dungeons, bound by Lord Frieza's men. Be calm, my child—' mom puts in. That fills in why there aren't any servants around.

'Be calm? Be calm when I'm just hours or probably minutes away from my infamous death with nothing to'

'What's this? A family tiff.' A voice rings from the entrance of the hall. It echoes with sarcasm and lustful delight; the kind that urges one to take something seriously.

'And who the fuck do you think—' My words trail. Here is the funniest costume I've ever laid an eye on; shiny white leather with large purple patches and oh, a massive, wriggly tail of a lizard. 'For chrissake mister, take off that costume and I'll consider talking to you.' I sneer. Damn, what a goofball.

The creature reddens and until that, I never realized that it wasn't much of a joke of a clown. It is…this man—no, not man—this creature is wearing his true skin. Of course, he may be one of those weird alien races. Weird for earthlings, that is.

'Child,' my dad butts in. 'This is Lord Frieza—Lord Frieza, this is my daughter, princess Bulma of Antiopia.' Dad finishes. So does he mean to say that this dwarfish funny creature is the ruler of the universe? What, I can roughly restrain my snigger, and please stop dropping bullshit that he's awfully strong. Goddamit.

'Well then, princess, may I have a private word with you? I've been waiting for you to rise, my dear, but I would love it more if you're not disturbed from your sleep so I made sure I come upon you not forced from shut-eye.' Frieza smiles. Holy cow! His lips and tongue are purple! He reminds me of a drag-tailed whore in the pub nearby; I wonder if he's gay.

My parents immediately move out as they hear the request and the lizard man and I are left alone in this solitary caved-in room. Heaven help me with this.

'So, dear, it seems like your parents and I have come to an exquisite understanding.' He says as soon as he's sure we're out of earshot. Exquisite understanding? Fuck, I haven't even heard of it.

'Aye, what's that?' I say absentmindedly. This is boring me to death and it's only starting!

'Well, thing is, they don't want themselves executed and they don't want you dead too,' he gives it a start. Well, it's only natural that a king and queen wouldn't want their princess dead, right? 'I quite understand that sentiment, of course, since I wouldn't want the same thing to happen to me or my children,'

'You have children?' I ask, not being able to hide my shock. I can't help but to imagine mini versions of him sending the whole town into a smother. Gods, this terrifies me like fuck alright.

'Not yet. But I'm planning to.' He says as a matter of factly, his lips widening into a malicious grin. 'And you, princess, is going to bear my children for me.' He laughs, holding his stomach tightly, he laughs.

'Holy fuck!' I yell even before I can control it. 'Are you insane! Have you ever looked at yourself in the goddamn mirror, mister?' I never bother calling him 'Lord', really. Not now that he's forcing me into the most dreadful thing. And honestly, do I look like someone who'd commit bestiality by coupling with an overgrown lizard? Me? When I'm the prettiest girl who is and shall ever be in this goddamn planet?

'Be careful with your words, princess.' He warns as soon as he's caught hold of his maniacal laughter, and at this point his eyes are glaring. 'Has it ever crossed you that you are face to face with the most powerful being in the universe?'

'Yeah, alright. But that doesn't give you license over me, you hideous louse. I mean, look at yourself for once.' I say, angrier than what I expected.

He grabs hold of my hair and pulls me to him. I grit my teeth only to be leaned closer to his monstrous face.

'Goddamit, bitch-'

'What is this mess, my lord?' A gruff voice cuts the action. Frieza's clutch on my pitiful hair loosens until finally letting go of me completely. He pushes me down on my knees and turns to the newly-come visitor.

'Well, Prince, this woman is being obstinate. I think she needs a good deal of forcing.' The lizard man says more calmly than a little earlier.

'Good deal of forcing? You almost stripped me of my scalp, isn't that a good deal enough, you motherfucking cold-blooded amphibian!' I yell just as the 'Prince' chuckles sarcastically. I haven't taken a good look at him due to the pervading expectation inside me that he looks no better than this Lord fucking Frieza.

But he is. I mean, he's perfectly human like me, like our warriors, like the residents; only he's a little darker and more devilish in the face. No surprise; who in bloody hell would expect anyone from that pack to look like angels anyway?

'What's so funny, Vegeta!' Frieza screeches at the Prince, ready to send him to ashes. So his name is Vegeta. Prince Vegeta; how barbaric. Look at that bush of hair he has; it's blacker than the coals we use in the fireplace, and those eyes…they're so—

'It's funny, alright.' Vegeta forces to suffocate his giggle. 'Lord, if I have known you well enough, you would've long ago choked the life out of this bitch after she just called you that…what was that you said?' He turns to me as I get up on my feet.

'Motherfucking cold-blooded amphibian, and that's not even enough for killing my people.' I say only to extract another set of hearty snigger from the prince. Frieza is looking boiled all over, I can't help but to feel like laughing had not the situation been so fucking grave.

'You call yourself a Princess, girl? What do they teach you here, rotten manners?' Frieza hisses at me. Manners? I don't need good manners, and who or what the hell does he think he is? A refined gentleman?

I didn't have the chance to answer for Vegeta interferes again.

'This is the princess?' He says in a maintained disbelief. Seeing that Frieza gives an affirmative, he turns to me again, 'Yeah, what kind of manners do they teach you here?'

'A lot that's none of your frigging business. And you, what the hell are you?' I snap petulantly.

'I was a Prince of the Planet Vegeta. Lord Frieza here is my father--'

'Your father? Are you shitting me, Mr. I'm-so-cool Prince of Planet Whatever?' I say in worse disbelief than his. Frieza? His father? What, is he another crossbreed born of accident? Who is the unlucky woman…?

'Think, dimwit.' Frieza seethes venomously at me which sends me a few steps back. 'I told you I haven't got any children. Vegeta here is my foster son and my right hand general. Now as I've told you, I want a true heir, born of my blood, and you're going to provide that for me!'

'No fucking way.' I say flatly. Vegeta is beginning to smile again only this time I find nothing funny about it.

'So this is the woman of your choice. How lucky you are, Lord father.' He says in a facetious voice that resembles mockery.

'I'm not going to fucking marry you; not now, not ever, and not even in my worst nightmare. What's gonna happen to the creatures I'll bear you? Have you imagined what they'll look like?' I reason to Frieza. The thought of half human offspring sends chills all over me and much as I can't help it, the images of these half-breed younglings flood my head. Perhaps, I would slaughter them even if I was to be their mother. Yuck!

Frieza freezes while his foster son drops his hands on his side. I can tell from their faces that I've said something terrible, something that no one has ever dared telling Frieza. The lizard man breathes calmly again and without looking at the prince, says,

'Vegeta, would you leave us two alone?'

'Yes, lord.' Vegeta says, bows a little, and walks out of the hall. Now it's me and Frieza again in the solitary world of near-death moment. The Lizard man turns to me once again.

'For the last time, princess, I ask you; would you not take my hand in marriage?' He asks, not letting go of his composure as he has only minutes ago.

'Over my smelly carcass.'

'Your parents will be killed.' He warns.

'I'm going to make sure I'll kill myself if you did so. By that, I'm certain no one will get the benefit.'

'Sigh. Well then, I reckon it'd be better if I go look for some other dame.' He says. Now, why is he so considerate all of a sudden?

'Yes, you should do that because I'd never, ever budge.'

'So be it.' He says and clasps both his hands and just when I think I'm done with it he adds, 'But I need your kinship for you are a royal. I need loyalty among the captives, your people, so that your race shall submit to obedience to me…'

'And what does that mean?' I ask although I know just perfectly well what he means; he wants me to marry any relative of his if I can't be his.

'That I'm giving you a choice; marry me or one of my kin. And since I have only Vegeta…It's me, him, and death on your selection list, choose if you will.' He offers, a passive smirk playing on his lips.

'You mean that bastard who just walked out of us?'

'Yes. You should be content because he's no other species unlike me.' he smiles. Him, Vegeta, or death? The middle seems to out-best the 2 and…well, it shouldn't really be that bad.

'Of course I'd be glad if that means getting rid of you.' I smile at him too. 'so feel free to make arrangement for our marriage and do the honor of breaking the news to him.' I say.

'Oh, I can't do that.' Frieza snickers evilly. Even his humongous tail is shivering with delight. How gross. 'I am your Lord now; you don't order me around for your personal matters. You do that yourself while me, well, I can only wish you luck.'

I stand rooted, motionlessly digging the meaning of those words. And then it comes to me, like an overflowing dam full of wild ideas…

'Are you asking me to propose to your foster son?' the words come out of my mouth, uncontrolled and almost frightened of the inevitable truth behind it.

'Do you have anyone else to do that for you, my lady? And besides, it's not he who wants to marry you, rather, it's vice versa. The one who wants the nuptial shall be the one to take initiative, am I correct?' He laughs again, this time withdrawing a maximum volume from his throat.

'Excuse me? I don't remember saying I want to marry your foster son; what I said is that I'll do that if it means getting rid of you.' I retort. I know it's pointless to say that but I can't let my pride shatter to pieces, can I?

'Well, be my guest, dear. But let me warn you that he's not, as of yet, welcoming the concept of marriage, and just in case he rejects you I'll be here ready to receive you with open arms.' The Lizard man retains the evil grin.

'Reject me? Now who's the dumb fucker who'll refuse the hand of the most eligible princess of the world anyway?' I spit with my usual sky high pride and if needs saying, I say it with full conviction.

'You can ask that to the princesses of the other hundreds planets we've been into. Hahaha.' Frieza's guffaw reverberates in the hollow space, multiplying the tone as if to chill the already dead air. But I'm more troubled with the enterprise I will have to undertake than I am with his icy laughter. Me? Force or offer myself to a man I just met half an hour ago? I don't think I can sleep on it. And the salamander was even kind enough to warn me about this Vegeta man. He does reject women, princesses, and no doubt some of them are just as alluring. That's if Frieza's not shooting the bull, but what if he isn't? What if Vegeta really is a morbid girl dumper? What if he says 'no' to me? Shall I be Frieza's? I'd rather be dead and fed to mongrels.

TBC

A/N: Just some brief points here; I apologize if I don't get the names' spellings right because I'm just following what's in the cards I have here. Also, the plot is not very original; as I've said it's kinda typical, you know, the-princess-and-her-kingdom-in-trouble cliché. I will also welcome constructive criticisms about my technical errors and other stuff, like the swearing. I'm really sorry if some are so offended with the f-word; it's just that Irvine Welsh is my favorite author too that I can't help inheriting that one. 


	2. Chapter II

Disclaimer: Borrowed! Borrowed! Damn it, everything's borrowed! Hehehe.

Chapter II

Vegeta's POV

Why does everybody seem so obsolete these days? It's not like those turds don't really love their job but this business of killing, conquering, warring, and enslaving galaxy communities is just making them sick. And I don't mean sick just like getting tired of it, but the kind of 'sick' that knocks one off and tells him what he's been doing is goddamn useless. I talked to Ginew a little earlier and asked if his battalion's done with their mission and he just nodded to me as if I were a mere lieutenant. I checked out what was up then only to learn that they hadn't covered half of the job. They had only killed around 17 local warriors (out of hundreds and hundreds)and only three of which were top ones. I wonder if Antiopian (Antiopia being the name of this kingdom) guys are tough enough to stand a week of battle with Frieza's crew. As far as I'm concerned, among the hundreds of planets we've been into none was ever as plucky as to prolong a war with us, far less drive us away from its territory by force. But this one seems stiff and promising on the first day, Antiopia…And the rest hadn't gone as far as an inch ahead. I almost flared and ended up threatening them with Lord Frieza's capabilities. Speaking of whom, he would have to intervene and use his infinite strength unless our men could man this duty by themselves; and that has never happened before. I can only cringe at what's Frieza's going to do if this culminated to the point of his necessary entrance to the war. How I wish the time would come; I'm dying to see again how strong this creature is, it's been a long time since he released his avarice in my presence. And isn't it a wonder though that I was almost raised by him and yet I have very little idea of his prowess' magnitude? Except that of course, I know he is very, very strong, even unimaginable.

So in the morning I was on my way looking for the Lord to give the report of how his men were. To tell the truth I was almost excited to give him news that his men are practically slacking off; just imagine my joy on the thought of punishing full of hot air sonuvabitches like Jiez and that squat pumpkin Gordo. So I searched the Lord out in the spacecraft but his guard said he was in the palace, having 'diplomatic exchanges' with the royal family. Usual status quo. Frieza just loves to talk to the monarchs before breaking them the good bit; 'we're going to take over this kingdom and when we're done scraping every bit of wealth in it, we're gonna blow this whole thing up.' Yes, exactly his words to the poor families he's murdered and left to bits amidst the universe. They'll be lucky if their daughter is cute because for sure my Lord's going to spare her and make him his you-know-what.

Anyway, I immediately felt his familiar aura in one particular spot in the palace because it seemed really dying to break loose, meaning, the Lord must've been really angry at that time judging by the nature of his power. And then I witnessed a peculiar scene once I found him; Frieza was pulling a girl by the hair. So this must be the source of his anger. Anyhow, it turned out that this was the princess. Ha! I thought princesses were wise enough not to blow Frieza's top! But not this one surely; she insulted Frieza in front of me and must've been doing so in my absence. The story? Typical; Frieza proposed a marriage, which isn't uncommon because he proposes nearly to every beautiful princess of the planets we've been into, and this one has caught his soft spot again. Unfortunately, the girl refused and the surprising thing about it is the arrant fact that she refused. Would anyone really believe it if I tell him that Lord Frieza almost always married every girl he wants even if he just blew up the girl's planet and killed every one of her kin? Yeah, Frieza has never been rejected by princesses before no matter how mean he's been; in fact they married him, girls from different planets did. And the only thing that kept him from having children is…

Knock…knock…knock

Knock on the door. Who could it be? It's Frieza probably; a little earlier he asked me to leave him and the girl so they could sort the thing out.

Knock…knock…knock…

'Come in,' I say, almost sure that it's the one I'm expecting.

'Door's locked!' A female voice from outside called irritably. I twist the knob open and…

Just then the girl enters. It's her alright, the one that almost made Frieza put her head in the oven.

'I never thought I'd live through the day when I'd be knocking on my own bedroom's door.' She says and rolls her large blue eyes; sarcasm drips from her words. Her gestures demand territory over the place and her head moves with such haughtiness only a true royal could succeed in doing.

'So this is your room? It's nice.' I say, almost in mockery. It never occurred to me that I'll pick her room for my office.

'Yeah, it's nice and all so you better get out now before it gets hellish.' She snaps as she collapses entirely on the chair near the powder mirror. Has she ever heard of the word 'manners'? And she's supposed to be a princess for crying out loud.

'Oh well.' I say, pause awhile and, 'Your people told me that the Princess is the most beautiful creature they have ever seen...I never expected that she would be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.' I grin.

'Thanks. Go away now before I do something so unprincess-like...' She snaps as if she heard nothing of my not-so-well-intended compliment.

'Whoa, hold yer horses, dear. What's your name?'

'Call me Princess or your royal highness or your majesty…anything.'

'I'm asking for your name, not title. Do you think I'll lower myself calling you such rubbish when me and my men just conquered your kingdom? Well, if you must know, miss, none of this will be yours again so better free yourself from the delusion that all this is under your possession. Even that title will no longer be yours in no time.' I say.

She looks murderously at me. For a she moment opens her mouth to release protest and having found none, keeps quiet and leans back on the chair.

'Your name again?' I ask with less discourtesy.

'It's Bulma, Vegeta. And if you think…'

'Bulma, yeah. Well, Bulma, you better start calling me my Lord, Prince, or your highness from now on.' I smirk, loving at the moment the reversal of our lovely situation.

'And why would I be as dumb as to do that?

'Because I already told you; all of these are mine now. Unless you marry my Lord father, then, we can fix your appeal of ownership. And speaking of which, when is your wedding going to take place?' I grin, picturing again for the hundredth time Frieza's wedding day whose sequel would eventually be short lived.

'No. Not that shit again. He already let me go, you know.' She says triumphantly.

'Come again?' Did I just hear her right? Frieza let her go and yet, what a shock it is that he didn't kill her after she just refused!

'You heard me just right, Prince,' She mocks, putting heavy emphasis on the word Prince. 'he says I can go marry someone else even if it isn't him.'

'And he didn't promise to burn you tomorrow?' I ask. Stupid question.

'No. You can ask him later if you want.' She says dismissively. I can't tell from this side whether she's lying or not, but come to think of it, lying isn't exactly going to help her. So she must be telling the truth.

'Lord Frieza gave you permission to marry someone else, even if it's not him?' I repeat her exact words. 'And what did you do to make him let you?'

'Let me what?'

'Let you live, let you do something else, let you insult him and then get away with it.' I say, feeling my irritation for her slow catching up.

'I don't know. I just told him I'd rather die than to marry him and bear his children, I mean, no one can stomach that, right? Not even a steel bellied woman…' she doesn't finish though I know perfectly well what she wants to convey with her wanting words. She seems pesked by today's events and slams her hand on her lap; a clear sign of exhaustion. I don't blame her; she almost lost everything in a matter of few hours since we landed here.

'Yes, I can imagine your brutal refusal, and let me be the one to break it to you that no one has ever done it before, that Lord Frieza gets everything he wants; whether it's wealth or territory or women.' I grin while trying to look proud at the knowledge which I know so much more of. Somehow I'm expecting her to fear for herself but instead,

'You're kidding. Are you telling me that women never reject him? And if they don't then why would he be asking my hand when he has women? Why does he have no heir or children? This smells like the worst case of polygamy to me.' The girl seems befuddled but in fairness more drawn with interest to the conversation. She stops leaning his back on the chair and puts a palm on her chin.

'In the first place, Bulma, Lord Frieza never gets rejected because everyone fears him or at least princesses with presentable manners know a lot better than to reject him. Secondarily, his proposal to you is grounded because he has no wife in the present and his wives normally die like flies either through suicide or execution. Hence he has no heir; actually, he's had some young but the genetic structure of the mother is always very incompatible with his and thus the children cannot survive in any way (at this point, the girl's hands fly to her mouth in shock, looking so nauseated). Now he goes around the galaxy looking for a worthy woman who would be capable of sustaining his younglings, in other words, he's trying and this time he wants to try you. For the last, he could be polygamous because he's so powerful he can do anything he wants. Now tell me, girl, do you now feel an immense fear for his greatness?'

'Yes, but only about the offspring part. Yuck.' She replies childishly and closes her eyes as if to picture the whole thing.

'Goddamit! Don't you get what I'm trying to say here? I want you to fear him because you have to! He's going to blow you up and this trash of a planet you have. You really need a lot of growing up to do, girl, and when the time comes when the Lord is fed up with you, don't count on your cheekiness to save your neck because, mark me, it's not taking you any further from the gallows.' I hiss as I step a little closer towards where she's resting supine. I'm so pissed off by her playing the extremely dumb I'm-so-high-and-almighty bitch here. Why can't she understand that Frieza can do the worst she can imagine in that tiny grain of brain that she has? And…is it just ignorance or plain courage that makes her put on this kind of fearlessness?

'There is only so little left of what he hasn't done yet. What else have I got to fear when he's been threatening to burn this whole thing down and kill us all for the last 12 years? Tell me, your majestic highness, is there anything else to expect? Why, are you just mad because you wet your pants with fear of him while I don't?' She says, thoroughly unruffled. I want to strike her but…

'Yes, I am afraid of him. I am afraid of him because I've seen the lot he could do, I've been in actuality, I've been there with him and I have felt his power, and you haven't. You're just being naïve, like all over confident fops that we've run into.' I say calmly this time but deep inside, my anger must've something to do with her daunt, maybe.

'You say so.'

'It takes a lot of ignorance to defy the Lord like you did, and now that I've known you, even for a little while, I think that perhaps it's the arrogant ignorance in you that saved you from his wrath.' I say.

'What do you mean?' She says rather lazily.

'My Lord isn't as easily considerate as that. I presume there is a condition…'

'Ah yes, of course there is. And you know what?' She says, suddenly keen to pursue this stupid rigmarole.

'What?'

'He wants me to marry somebody else instead, that's what.' She says, dropping her voice in dismay as if somebody just died.

'And who is it he wants you to marry, if I may ask?'

'Tell you what; you are in perfect right and position to ask. Only I don't feel like telling you.' She says. Now this catches me in a haze, why would I be in perfect position to ask?

'Why is that?' I get on to play her game. Hell, I don't even know why a destiny of a cute girl would intrigue me.

'I don't know.' She says in a confused tone and knits her blue brows. 'I…I feel so embarrassed; I planned on telling the guy next week, you know, so why would I be telling anyone before him or even before that time? And besides, I never wanted anyone to tell me who to marry. Even I already warned my parents not to arrange my marriage.' She finishes with another childish scowl and takes on a new gesture to further attest her immaturity; she folds her arms like a toddler beaten out in a wrestling match.

'Which explains the attitude. What a brat.' I say even before I can stop me; really, I wasn't really planning to say it aloud. It's just that…goddamn spoilt royals really need a lot of maturity to work on.

'Excuse me? Unless I've been misinformed, you are a prince, hence spoilt as well.' She says, seeming to have read what I've been thinking.

'A warrior prince, that is. Meaning, I have more than discipline one needs to act properly.' I correct her. This argument is so useless, pointless, and meaningless altogether. And have I mentioned purposeless? Sounds very much like a teenage persiflage to me, and smells like one too. But come to think of it, I'm not yet 19 and she…

'Bulma?'

'Yes?'

'How old are you?' I ask. Now how awkward is that?

'17' she answers quietly and, 'You?'

'I'll be 19 in a few months.' I say disinterestedly. It only makes me remember the amount of years I've been in training, and the awful memories of those sessions are just…argghh. 'Well, you will be married soon in quite a young age. I wonder if you would tell me now whom Frieza wants you to join hands with?' I ask with a smile. I don't really know if I am counting on the intimacy of the info exchange that just passed between us but, maybe I am.

'You won't laugh if I tell you?' She says with a sigh. And this answer makes me all the more confused why she gives in so easily. Maybe the trick works; and I didn't even mean it to be a gimmick to lead her into telling. Phew.

'No, I won't.' I say, crossing my fingers behind me. I am ready to prepare myself with uncontrollable laughter; what if it was Kiwi or Dodoria? And what would they look like as they sweep by the aisle? Proverbial beauty and the beast, I say. Hahaha.

'Frieza says…oh, he's such a bastard…' She stammers a little and I hang on, 'He says…he wants…grrr, I'm losing it!' She wrings her head in defeat. Now this is getting funnily thrilling.

'Relax, it's just a little…' I try to calm her but,

'Relax! Fuck, Vegeta, your father wants me to marry YOU if I can't be his. That's what he said and now I shamed myself I might as well replace the court's jester…Arrgghh, fuck it!'

'What!'

'Dammit, you just heard me! And please don't say NO to me because it would mean my demise…I would die, this whole world would and I'll be miserable in hell. I beg you, please, if you don't, well, I already told you…I…' Bulma pauses in a considerably long while until… 'Will you marry me?'

TBC

A/N: Will he refuse? Uh yeah, marriage is such a pain in the ass but remember what Maxim Gorky said 'Marriage is like falling in ice water; you fall once and you remember it for the rest of your life.' For better or for worse. Anyhow, this is another teenage fic, as was revealed above. I told you I can't be serious, i.e., I can't write that mature age love and sap sap all, y'know. 


	3. Chapter III

Excuse Me?

Disclaimer: I am Akira Toriyama! Hahaha! (sweats and looks sideways) No, no! I was just kidding, Mr. Policeman…(grins apologetically) hehehe.

a/n: Many hearty thanks to the reviewers! Err, I've nearly forgotten everything I know about this anime, you know; it's been almost 11 years since I watched its episodes everyday. No, really; I was 7 or 8 at the time. Hehehe. Anyway, 2 days ago I watched again, for the first time in countless years, one of DBZ movies and I think that I'm falling head over heels again. It kinda makes me feel nostalgic of my childhood. Again, I want to thank everyone who bothered to read and review.

Chapter III

'Will you marry me?' Bulma repeats the words, tearfully and almost unwillingly. It's impressing that she has what it takes to gather what's left of her shattered dignity only to lose it again to Vegeta. Vegeta's eyes widen, in horror or in incredulity or in suspicion, as he looks at her.

'Do you know what you're getting into?' is all the swarthy prince could come up with.

'No, I don't; I don't know what'll happen to me once we're married and I don't think I'll ever want to know. But,' the girl pauses as if thinking what she's going to say next. 'But I do know that I'm better off with you than I will ever be with your father.'

'Tell me, princess, how can you be so sure that I'll offer more comfort to you than what my Lord could? You hardly know me, we just met…'

'I just met Frieza as well. And why do you speak as if I DO want you as my husband, sir? I'm proposing to you because I have no choice left, because I can't even bear to look at the creature you call your father, and because…because you are human-like.' Bulma finishes without an apparent effort to sound convincing. Regal pride.

'And just because I'm more human-like in the face you think I am better in all aspects?' Vegeta frowns.

'Of course not; I think you're both mass murdering bastards…'

'Then why choose me? If I'm being honest here, my dear, the privileges you could gain by marrying Lord Frieza are as limitless as what you are entitled to as a princess of this kingdom. I see no point in asking for anything less, namely by marrying me, than being the wife of the most powerful man in the universe. I can't protect you any more than your people can defend your family and this kingdom from us, and please don't think that the Lord will let you get away from the humiliation you just caused him.' Vegeta says.

'Great. Congratulations, Prince; you just made me feel worse than shit.'

'I didn't say I wanted to comfort you, Bulma.' Vegeta shakes his head and turns to the window.

'Look here, Prince; I don't give a crap about privileges and everything, you can make me a goddamn lowdown slave for all I fucking care, but I WON'T marry the monstrous lizard, not even over my dead pretty body. All my life I wanted to walk down the aisle looking beautiful beyond any words and just because your monster horde came here that dream melted away in impossibility, not to mention the most hideous one forced me to marry him. I'm not going to let Frieza complete that ruination so at least I should be entitled to marry someone who's not of another breed of the universe, even if that someone HAS to be you. And you're going to wed me whether you like it or not.' Bulma folds her arms and shoots a look of authority over the dark prince.

'Why do you give so much importance to physical appearance, for Pete's sake!' Vegeta almost yells which makes the princess jump up a little from her seat and unfold her arm to clutch the armrest. 'If I have known better, my dear, you are attracted to me.' Vegeta changes his furious expression into a rather mischievous grin.

'What? Why should I be when I have only known you for the shortest time?'

'So you're not?' Vegeta teases, looking as if he were loving it, even if it's called flirting.

'Uh-huh.' The blue-haired girl nods absentmindedly.

'Alright then, we have no further business to settle. We can part from here.' Vegeta says dismissively.

'Wait, so you're actually rejecting me? What if I tell you that I am attracted to you?' Bulma asks with the tone of arrant hopelessness in her words. She needs his approval, very badly.

'So?' Vegeta releases his infamous monotone.

'Well?'

'What?'

'Yes or no?' Bulma seethes irritably.

'Yes or no, what?'

'If I tell you that yes, I'm attracted to you, will you accept my proposal?' The princess says, this time letting go of her meager patience.

'Uh,' Vegeta pauses for effect and slowly gives the tormenting cruncher Bulma has been preventing to hear; 'No.' His words ring protracted that it needs no repetition for the young lady to make clear. Her eyes lose their color as she withholds her exhalation.

'But why? Here is the most eligible woman wanting your hand in marriage and you refuse her? Are you out of your wits, prince?' She says in disbelief.

'Are you paying court to me now?' Vegeta says irritably. His sentence reveals the ugly reality of the scene and much as the lady hates to admit it, she is closer to defeat than ever.

'Yeah, I am, as ironically absurd as it sounds. What else does it look like when a girl practically asks a young man to marry her?' Bulma says, releasing the power of her forte; sarcasm.

'Well then stop it.' He says and follows his command with an I'm-so-fed-up-with-you tsk.

'Why?'

'Because everybody's been doing it as far as I can remember.' Vegeta says with the haughtiest note imaginable.

'…' Bulma finds no word to reply and screws up her hands again. Was Frieza telling her the truth when he said that Vegeta has rejected many a princess on each of the planets they visited or ravaged?

'You're all like that, shallow royals of petty worlds; you slut around with my Lord father so you can find the means to get to my bed. I've been there.' He says as if talking to himself.

'Excuse me? In the first place, I don't make a whore of myself to your dear dad. And more importantly, I'm not doing it or not gonna do it just to sleep with you. I'm only trampling on my dignity at such a degree because I'd rather do anything else than to be an animal's possession; I've told you that a hundred times already. Do me a favor and separate me from the bitches you've met in the outer space.' The girl snaps.

'You're only different from them because you're bold enough to show disgust to my father's appearance in his face, because others beat around the bush while you told him outright that you want me and not him!' Vegeta shrieks.

'Certainly not! I am NOT attracted to you, goddamit! Why do you keep on insisting on it anyway? Just because you claim everyone else has desired you? Please, I most surely DON'T! And besides, I promised myself to love only one person.' She says proudly.

'And who is that?'

'ME. Who the hell else?'

'Brat. You broke your promise to yourself a long time ago. Figures.' Vegeta mocks.

'What promise?'

'That one you said walking down the aisle to look beautiful; no one's ever going to marry you with that kind of attitude, even if it's true that you're the prettiest girl anyone has seen.' Vegeta says.

'Do you mean it, then?'

'What?'

'That I'm the most beautiful girl you've seen.'

'What does it matter? Surely everyone has told you that?' Vegeta says and frowns at the shallow exchange of words they're having. At this note, he notices that the conversation tends to end up in nonsense after being strained at one particular point, mostly when it becomes overtly personal.

'Yes, people say that around here except Yamcha, you know.' Bulma stretches up, looks at herself in the mirror and runs a finger through her long blue tresses. Vegeta stares at her intently as she attends to the needs of her vanity. Her white medieval style gown rustles softly on the floor.

'Who's Yamcha?'

'The arrogant Duke of Novgrod. He's my father's cousin and he rules the southern part of the continent.' She says, seeming uninterested in the curious fact she just gave. Her look emits a certain kind of bitterness that lies in the past, her past.

'And your relationship with him is…?' Vegeta asks.

'I wanted to marry him when I was young but he, er, I think he didn't deem me worthy of him. He's stronger than the king my father himself, and he's led the country to many victories in the war; I think, without him, this world would've long ago wasted in subordination. We owe that much to him. He used to stay in this palace prior to his ascent to greatness, when he was still under my dad's protection, and…' she stammers at this part. 'And I think I kind of fell in love with him. When I couldn't hide my feelings any longer I immediately told Chichi, the head maid, and she told my parents who wished me luck because they said it was a very good choice. Anyway, I learned that Lord Yamcha was in love with someone else and I just gave up on that point. Rest is ancient history. Damn, he broke my heart.' Bulma takes in a deep breath and collapses on the chair again as though retelling the tale exhausted her.

'Uh huh.' Vegeta nods. 'So this isn't the first time that you've been refused? This shouldn't be that hard to take if that's the case.' He concludes.

'Then don't make it the second one. I've only been ditched once and it feels as if I've been thrown out all my life. I mean, it's a bitch, really, especially if being rejected seems so preposterous because everybody's telling you that you certainly can snatch every guy you want whether he's a king, a general or a commoner.' She says and doesn't seem to feel like she's giving away much of what's she's not supposed to.

'I know what you mean.' Vegeta pauses.

FLASHBACK

'Vegeta, you know I love you but you don't deserve me.' the fair woman was saying.

'What the hell do you mean by that?'

'You know too well what, dear. I am the Queen of Eredon and I can't be content being a ruler of a puny planet. I want the universe to take over and I can only have that if I marry your father.' The woman said and droops over her golden head. She seemed to be stricken with guilt by her own words.

'So that's it? You'll give me up for my father because you want power?'

'It isn't as bad as it sounds, my love. We can still continue…' but the woman was cut short.

'What? Have an affair and make a wimpy cuckold out of my father!'

'But that's the only way we could survive through it all.' The woman said lowly.

'Damn it! I've been in love with you since childhood, woman. I waited, persevered through hell trainings under Frieza, turned my back on every woman that came to me so that when I meet you again I'll be qualified to make love to you, and this is what you tell me? Shit!'

'Listen, I am in massive debt to your father; he saved this planet against many foes. When I was 10, he himself bought my freedom and that of the whole planet so I could retain my right and sovereign over it and because of this we have nurtured an alliance that runs older than you are. It's only fair that I accept his offer to be his spouse, in which my debt shall be repaid.' The woman said in a hushed voice. A clear pool of liquid welled under her lids.

'Do you love him?'

'Nay, I can't love anyone else but you.' The woman told him and let fall two drops from her eyes.

She reached out an arm to him which he took swiftly. He had held her tightly before closing the gap between their passionate lips…

'Vegeta? You alright?' Vegeta jumps out of reverie as Bulma's voice penetrates his ears.

'Yes.' He says and moves closer to the open window. He lifts a leg on the ledge to prepare to take off.

'Where are you heading?' The girl asks, sniping a stealthy look at him.

'I need fresh air.' And he's right; he really needs fresh air for this sudden necessity to reminisce.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

'Sire, a saiyan warrior has infiltrated the complex. According to reports, he is an aristocrat native of the land.' A pink, stout creature bows to Frieza who is now taking pleasure in resting on the King's throne.

'What makes you say he's a saiyan, Dodoria?'

'Golden hair and sea green pupils.' Dodoria says.

'Immense strength?'

'Aye, Lord. He has already killed twenty-seven of our men, discounting those who were destroyed by his companions.'

'He has companions? What of them?'

'There are more or less six of them, one of which appears to be a Namek; all could be said to have possessed extraordinary powers.' Dodoria sighs. 'Shall I send Lord Vegeta to take them on?'

'Nay, he's taking care of something else. Go tell Ginew and his troop.'

'Yes, your majesty.' Dodoria walks out from the chamber.

TBC

a/n: That's all for the time, folks. I'll continue this if I have the time but it seems that it'll take long since I have to go away for 2 weeks sometime in the first week of April.


	4. Chapter IV

Excuse Me?

Disclaimer: You know the rules; I only borrow from Toriyama. Don't sue this poor person.

A/N: It's been, what? One hundred million years? To be quite honest, for the past months I've been in various states of stress and disarray that I could hardly upload my chapters. I don't know, really. But last night it finally occurred to me to make an update. I scribbled the draft on a piece of paper, made up the dialogues from the top of my head and the rest is history. For what it's worth, I've more or less come up with decisions that will shape the plot of this fan fic. I apologize to those who "waited".

Chapter IV

Vegeta's POV

Even if I wasn't staring back at her, I knew well enough that she was keeping me well within her gaze, which, unfortunately for me, was too cold to oppose. We stood there for what seemed like countless centuries--Can't recall anymore. And if there was even a very small amount of light stealing inside the room, I didn't need to employ further help to realize that a sort of nagging tension had commenced its growth between us, and that my face bore its effects.

Then it suddenly dawned on me that she was painfully awaiting my more serious answer. Now I knew for a fact that I could torture her with the suspense for as long as I could possibly enjoy. Had I been under a looser circumstance, that would've been the characteristic thing to do. Contrary to my usual inclination though, I found myself somewhat unable to bear the weight of the strain. It was as if I was being blackmailed into making a hasty decision, which I could hardly avail at that time. And note, even if I was more than fully aware that my heart begged for a full-on refusal, nothing less, I had the most difficult time putting it to words.

"No," I repeated. It was sort of disappointing that it didn't come out as stabbing as I intended.

I saw her blink her eyes twice, for about a split second. Her off-shoulder spring gown, immaculate in its glorious whiteness, matched the pale complexion of her skin. Her whole face expressed a form of lividness that was calm, likely still in the process of absorbing the entire word which, short as it is, proved nearly lethal to her stupid, misplaced pride.

"So, you're really refusing to marry me, huh?" She seethed as I began to wonder what part of it she might've not understood. Her pupils dilated, remarkably expanding the smaller black circles at their center. "Mister, do you imagine what casualty that two-letter word could bring? Could mean to me? Are you even half aware that you're sending a whole colony to its morbid demise? Do you even--"

"If you're into a round of conscience-appealing crap, kindly leave me out of it. And please, don't make me think I've mistaken you for a smarter person."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"Nothing. Only that by now you should've figured out that I couldn't care less if I see your pathetic bodies perish in flames and that I'm a cold-blooded genocide junkie--Oh, I just forgot YOU coined that nickname. Mind me, that didn't impress me quite a bit. I suggest you try harder." I smirked, relishing her irritation as she threw venomous glances my way.

"Let me just straighten this out, prince; nobody's trying to impress you."

"Tersely put and effective. I knew you'd say that." I said, checking my beeper-watch and consequently feeling my brows furrow. A missive had been delivered to me a quarter of an hour ago. "Anyway, I'd better get going, there's an emergency down at the third infantry..."

"Who cares? You can't just go like that, could you? You owe me a clear decision--"

"If my memory serves me right, I owe you exactly nothing. In fact, once I made up my mind to chop your pretty neck off, you're much too advised to kneel in front of me and beg for my mercy. Otherwise, you'd have to live longer to witness my--whatchamacallit?--ah, barbarity. It's up to you and there's no hurry." I said as I watched her wrench her arms from her chest and rise to her full length, like a snake that's poised to spit poison.

I turned toward the door just then, determined to put this scene behind me. The room had suddenly assumed a murky atmosphere, as though someone had died in it and the echoes of the mourners' wails still linger, stubbornly, to haunt future occupants.

But then something unpredictable happened: She charged between me and the door sooner than I could reach the door knob. There was a look of unrestrained fearlessness in her young face, directed to me. It looked as though she was challenging me to bring forth my courage, the rest of it, to lay it bare before her so she could stomp on it, revealing the stronger sex. I, however, had no time for it. I was ready to give her the satisfaction of succumbing to her will if that meant getting rid of her at that point. But something powerful held me back; maybe it was called pride, the same thing that applied to her attitude and impertinence.

"I can make a bargain or two. You just can't leave as of yet--"

"Oh yeah? Watch me." I said rather dismissively. This time I made sure that I'd act quicker. Thus settling it once and for all, I shoved her to my side, out of the way. I heard a sharp profanity evincing from her mouth and without lending her a sympathetic glance, I snuck my way quietly out of that inferno. If I heard her continuous shouts from behind me, I didn't bother looking back.

--

I flew straight up north before boarding on my pod. Based on the missive I just read, things didn't go quite according to plan. A distraction seemed to have issued out of the slavery-bound lowlifes of the village and the urgent manner in which the message reached me seemed to allow for no further delay.

I decelerated to the location and as I did so, I noticed a conspicuous pillar, haphazard in its stance, and quite multi-colored. It unquestionably was the hour's center of attraction. As I drew even nearer, it became quite lucid that these are bodies, battered fresh corpses. Now that's an unfamiliar spectacle, I thought. I parked my flyer near the commotion, just a few feet outside the surrounding queues of my soldiers. Just then Zarbon's nob towered above their ugly mugs and upon sniffing out my presence from among the crowd, he hastily fought his way to me.

"Quickly tell me the subject of your disturbance." I said.

"Soon, sir, and good afternoon." the bumbling idiot fumbled, catching his breath, his green hair slightly unkempt as he effected to bow in the most graciously exaggerated manner he could manage at the moment. There was a twang of nerve in his sentence.

"Enough of that." I said. "Is it something I can't handle?"

"Oh, I doubt that sir."

"So what's the worried stupid expression for? Fix it at once, will you?"

He gathered himself up and tighten his face which produced a mix of lameness and uncertainty, omitting other overwhelmingly theatrical emotions. "You must pardon me, sir. But there's someone among the people who--"

"We'll get to that later." I mumbled, cutting him short. My eyes were still glued on the horrid scene. "What I want to know now is, why your guys didn't burn these wimps?" I nodded at the heap of pathetic carcasses, noting their intact colors and flesh.

"Er, sir, that's among our major concerns, in fact." he said and made awkward gestures with his hands and contorted his face very dramatically. "You see, these people seemed to have developed a kind of device or some other that renders their warriors resistant to fire and any degree of heat, which consequently rendered our troops' weapons closely futile. It seems further that their homes are installed with the same kind of...uhm, magic, if I may say so. It's a real state-of-the-art creation. I haven't quite seen anything like it."

"I get your point." Indeed, I did. I surveyed the village in question which was hardly in its destroyed state, to my upset. Apart from the scattered blood pools, howling local women and children, no sign of struggle was at stake. The squat measly houses still stood confidently, reassuring their durability amidst the aftermath of war. They weren't in gray ashes as I wished them to be and if not for the menacing attendance of this division, none would've made a point of questioning the nature of this curious event. It looked more of a part of the villagers' everyday status quo.

That's when I realized how angry I was. Together with this, I felt my nails deepen into my palms, creating moon-shaped pink marks on the skin. I never thought I'd live through the day when I'd be more or less guilty of gross underestimation.

"I ordered some of the men to run after the escaping POW... but they returned empty-handed, their quarries most likely roaming free in the hills... I already dispatched the first infantry to comb through the woods..." Zarbon rattled on.

"Zarbon," I glared at him. This trick always worked; it never failed to shut my subjects up. "Slow it down. Didn't it even cross you that I just pulled myself out of an unimaginably taxing meeting at the palace? As a matter of candid fact, right at this instant, I'm still in the very annoying process of sponging off the holistic episode into my head. My capacity for understanding is very limited at the present , now if you would be so thoughtful as to take things one at a time, perhaps I can work something out other than wanting to dissolve you to pieces." I snapped, which I suppose brought a painful spasm out of my companion's spine, assuming he had one.

"I beg your apology sir." Zarbon muttered, apparently sweating. "As I was saying, some of the escaped criminals went to the mountains, way up west. We presumed it was an order from their leader, the baron. We're afraid they'd endorse the help of the neighboring territory, Novgrod. Rumor has it that it's being hosted by an even more troublesome prince."

"Novgrod? Interesting." I said lazily, rolling over the familiar name unto my head. It might've earned Zarbon's wonder for he looked at me in a way that bore his poorly hidden suspicion. "Go on,"

"Sir, casualties on our side are fairly weighty. The death toll has been raised to sixty-seven in this battle alone. It's likely that we'd require another long period of time before our soldiers recuperated. A large amount of medicines is being defected from the Cassandra but we're afraid we're going to have to downplay our daily consumption. If it goes on like this, we may not last another month."

"And our artillery?" my curiosity heightened along with my intimidation, but I kept a straight face in case Zarbon suspected something.

"Faring only slightly better. Though we've confiscated a lot of weapons from the enemies, our lack is still to be remedied to a great extent. We didn't anticipate they'd repel our ammos."

"Seriously, did that have to be repeated? Anything else we're up and arms against? Judging by your looks you have nothing up your sleeve but ill tidings." I said at which the idiot grinned.

"The women are exceptionally attractive, sir."

I sighed in a clear display of petulance. "I've seen the best...and on second thoughts, the worst. What else? Have you collected all the loot?"

"Aye sir. Nothing but odds and ends. They seem to have curious functions but none of us could get them to work."

"That can easily be repaired; we'll just get one of the newly appointed slaves to work them. Anyway, if you're done I will retire to my chamber--"

"Hold on, sir. There's something you need to take a look at, still."

I gave him an intense look of dismay before I fully rounded on him. "There's more?"

"It's a someone. He's called Son Gokou of the Zarak Province, its Baron. He's responsible for decimating my squad."

"Indeed? And what, pray tell, is the reason why he's being spared on that account?"

"We unanimously decided that you should talk to him first, before you designate the day of his execution. He's an interesting piece of creature, that Son Gokou."

"You think he's worthy of my reception?" I sneered contemptuously.

"Not that, sir, it's just..."

"Then is his skin too thick that your blunt blades fail to penetrate through his flesh? Are you asking me to take care of him?"

"In a manner of speaking, sir." Zarbon said, suddenly becoming timid.

"Oh, the contriteness of your words is so masterfully overdone. This man sounds like a real winner. He must be matchless, don't you think?"

"You haven't faced him sir, so I wouldn't wager on it. He's currently being held in captive by Recoom and Dodoria, magnetic chains and all."

"Bring him to me." I said, not knowing what the meeting's consequence would be.

TBC

A/N: This chapter sucks ass but never mind, I'm uploading its continuation right away. Soon as I finished typing it. And the sketch is already done; all it needs is transcribing. Maybe tomorrow or later on.


	5. Chapter V

Excuse Me?

Disclaimer: Toriyama owns DBZ and I don't.

A/N: As promised, this is the quick update. This is set three days after the previous chapter. Read, review, nitpick, do anything you like.

Chapter V

Bulma's POV.

I'm feeling marvelously shot. So many nights have gone since I did something other than crying and scratching myself. I can't believe I'm being locked in a servant's cellar, coerced to seek shelter on the freezing floor with no hope of a romantic rescue. Oh, Gokou, Yamcha, where are you? I haven't seen anything that could be called a daylight since the goaler delivered my breakfast yesterday. I don't know exactly the number of hours that drifted since then. I'm doing my best to ignore my hunger. I have succeeded insofar as not going near the plate is concerned. Honestly, even a half-starved dog wouldn't lick it if it had a choice.

Now even my weakness has left me. I feel ready to stain these hands with murder, too ready I could almost taste the iron flavor of blood, granted that these aliens' blood are halfway like humans'. I kind of actually miss my room in much the same way I long to see how ragged I must look at the present. Four days ago I would've given everything to get away from its boring, prison-like sight. I take that back now, regrettably.

Well, believe it or don't, I've made so much progress in my battle against this isolation. I may be clinically mental right now but I don't care. I lost my life in three days, without warning and everything. My body is just so filled to the brim with anger I can hardly make room for miscellaneous emotions. I just feel really angry and vengeful. I wonder how everyone is. Are they still alive or are they as pathetic as me? They'd be lucky if they'd died already. The last time I was briefed of some news, triumph has been claimed by the invaders and our men somewhat annihilated, scattered, just like my mind. I wonder if I should give it the benefit of the doubt but how, when I'm locked fast in this tremendous hellhole?

The door creaks open. A rare event as of late. It's then when my yellow and red toady warden materializes in the threshold, a malicious grin plastered on his face and his cannibalistic claws clucking against each other, creating a kind of spooky rhythm. I choke at the very sight of him, too fatigued to offer an unpleasant word in return.

"Stand up, woman. I need to get you to the second floor."

"If I'm being arraigned for my gallows appearance, I'd need to get to my room first and change. I'm not about to die looking like a famished, abused prisoner." Come to think of it, I've been through worse weather for the past seventy-two hours.

"Nay, Lords Frieza and Vegeta want a word with you, immediately."

The names rang into my ear, recalling horrid memories I fought so hard to stash away to oblivion. Somehow, I feel more afraid of that prospect than standing vis-à-vis my death.

"Did you hear me? My bosses want to speak with you."

"Is it about the nuptial?" My words dissipate in the sub-zero air, failing to regroup themselves, and disappearing within each other in a matter of half a moment. The marriage deal is yet to be deliberated, I almost let it slip off me. I've been so hell-bent on plotting/fantasizing my revenge the marriage scarcely retained itself in me. And now... perhaps the hour has come to face it.

"Come, miss. The masters are not to be kept long."

I catch myself obeying his orders. Have I been in a healthier mood, I would've found this all singularly hilarious or better yet, I might've kicked this monster's ass a long while ago. But neither hilarity nor courage could be begotten at this rate. Hopelessness has never quite shown itself so boldly to me. All I can afford is to keep my head low and perchance, die that way.

My feet mechanically trail the warden. I trudge through pearly halls, sighing at their familiarity. Somehow, good memories seem to be mingled with the worst ones and each time the need to keep my eyes closed arises, I feel the unstoppable urge to cry.

Then I suddenly know where we are heading. That room contains numberless memories as well. This room whose door I'm face to face with now is where I used to spend my youthful nights when I was too scared and babyish to stay up in my own. I would neatly tuck myself between my parents, sleep tightly as their warmth was being transfused to my body. I would've gladly died this moment if only to get those days back.

"Come in, princess." An amphibious voice says. The door pries open, revealing an almost irreparable form of vandalism. My parents' bedroom can hardly be associated with its erstwhile gorgeous appearance and that's not to mention the presences that now fill it. I scratch my eyes for a btter look, trying to re-accustom myself to the light. The family portrait, my father's pride, is nowhere to be seen. The furniture were fatefully removed, doubtless to be shipped to Frieza's aircraft where great profit is to be made out of them.

And then, the absence of something human speaks the loudest. It fills every corner of the room, like unseen molecules, feeding on life and vitality.

"Sit down." Frieza says. I scour for something to sit on and at last, find a sturdy stool which I recognize as an import from the dirty kitchen. Frieza, however, is reclined on the Master's bed. From my pitiful position, I could get a full view of his three-toed white feet.

"Where are my parents? And what has happened while I was gone? Is everyone dead?"

"If I should answer that in order, princess, my words should go: In the dungeons, a lot, and no. Unfortunately, there are some that are worth keeping alive. You may count yourself among them."

"Should I be happy, then?" I say, trying to humor him.

"It depends on your willingness to negotiate." A voice that doesn't belong to Frieza slithers its way to my ears. I follow its direction and to my disappointment learn that its origin is none other than the haughty prince of the lousy world. Unlike Frieza, he is enthroned on the windowsill, half of his face clouded by the shadow of the curtains. He raises an eyebrow to me and smiles, "What, forgot me already, didn't you? Did you just find somebody else to bore with your marriage proposal?"

"Not quite. My sanity's still preserved and it tells me you're a jerk. Anyway," ignoring him, I turn to Frieza. "Have you got another way around this? What are your new terms?"

"Simple. I need an information that only you know."

His words capture my attention in an instant. I lean closer to him, determined not to cringe at his animal features. This may as well be my chance to salvage my world and I'd be a total fool to disregard it.

"I'm listening."

"Oh well. Then no difficulty may pass between us." Frieza states as his violet lips curl into what must've been a really grotesque grin. "This warrior, I believe he is a friend of yours, has spilled the beans as to the inventor of this device." He holds out a black chip for me to examine. I don't need to look twice or longer to know that it's the flame-deflector. I invented it myself hardly a year ago. I raise my eyes towards my interlocutor, wary to keep it out of any suspicious expression.

"And?" was all I can say.

"And? Well, we've tried the device ourselves and surprisingly, none of my men can't seem to find out how to use it. We guess that you, being its creator, would tell us."

"Sure. But what do I get in return?"

"Name your price."

"Leave... at once." I say, upholding the rest of what's left of my pluck.

There's laughter all of a sudden. A shrill, murder-bent laughter that I haven't heard before. Frieza is shaking on the sheets, uncontrollably, so that his breath comes short and his pupils roll back into his skull. It's a very scary scene, seeing him drive himself crazy.

"You seem to mistake me for someone very generous, princess. I'm afraid I'm going to have to call it either way, but not now. Not when I haven't stripped this world down to its core. I say, you think of something else." he finishes in halting tones as he nursed further symptoms of incessant laughter.

"This warrior who told you about me, is it Son Gokou?" I said quietly.

"Yes, the Baron of Zarak. Don't be upset that he's betrayed you. At gunpoint, you must understand, men have to turn back on their word."

"I'm not upset. If revealing the name of the inventor saved his life from your clutches, I'd be more than grateful that he's spared."

"Oh, noble. And may I inquire as to the nature of his relationship with you?"

"Childhood friend. He's the only one who knew how I got by the invention of the chip. Does he live yet?" I say, hiding my anxiety.

"I'm afraid so. He seems strong, my lady."

"Yes and if you're not careful enough, his power may drive you to the next galaxy." I spurt out in reckless abandon, not aware of any consequence my words may bring.

"Really? Too bad his execution is scheduled tomorrow, at dusk."

I drop my hands to my sides. This time, I didn't bother to conceal my anxiety. I take a step toward Frieza, ready to prostrate before him to beg for my friend's life.

"You can't..."

"And why can't I? Really, I'm quite shocked you'd think me incapable of ordering this man's death when clearly, almost before your eyes, I've swept one half of this world's population." he sneers and subsequently curls his lips.

"You can still save his life, Bulma." Vegeta says, breaking his silence at last. He moves forward, setting himself in the light. "You tell us how to get the flame deflector to work and we'd let him go a free man."

I think for a moment. Nothing clicks insofar as achieveing my end is concerned. I can feel both men's eyes studying me, carefully, as though it's a matter of life and death to discover my thoughts. Then I decide,

"I need to talk to you, Vegeta." I say. "In private."

His eyes wander from me to his adoptive father. I keep my gaze at him, steadily, not wanting to see dissent there. I can't read his expression; the only thing I'm conscious of is the ineffable intensity in his face. Without looking at Frieza, and equally conscious of his presence, I wait for his compliance, thinking that I'd die if he doesn't grant my request. In a few seconds, I hear the double doors close gently behind me and suddenly we are alone in the master's suite.

"I'm not going to marry you in exchange for that--"

"I'm not asking you to marry me." I say sternly amidst the holy silence. He retreats a step as if fearing a bite from me. I collapse on the foot of the bed. All frailties leave me and in a surge of adrenaline, with my thoughts on the verge of orgasm, I wring my hands together. "Listen, I can offer you something that you can't refuse. And if you do this particular bidding of mine, I can give you that. And I assure you no regrets."

"Is this a joke? Because if it is, just give me the cue to laugh and I'll be there."

"But first I need you to promise not to tell anyone. We have to be careful in taking the steps because otherwise we're toast..."

"Hold on. I haven't actually said yes. In fact I can hardly subject myself to be interested in whatever it is you have to say. I'm quite content as Frieza's protégé."

"You weren't listening, were you?"

"I was, and I deeply regret that I even bothered to."

"You hate your foster dad. You can't fool me."

"Believe what you will but I've had enough." he says, placing her hands on her hips and moving back to his former abode. But he didn't walk out on me, which is a plus because I'd still have a window of chance to persuade him.

"I said I can give you something you can't resist. It can give you the power to overthrow your lord, as easy as that."

He turns his back on me so that from this angle, there's no way to see his face. But I hardly need to make an effort to read his actions; he seems to be putting it over his head, thinking hard about the offer. The silence persists and so does his statuesque form. A fierce battle is taking place inside him, not wanting to be divulged until the victor's identity is announced.

"You make a bold offer. You assume many things you know nothing about. Whoever gave you the idea that I want my master off that throne?"

"You did." I say, risking my life if I had known any better. "Everything about you points to that road... but I can sense too much fear in you. Like, you'd die longing to kill him, never seeing the fulfillment of that dream."

"Shut up! Who are you to read me like that? You know, that's exactly why I have no patience for stupid creatures like you. You think that you're so smart you know everything that's going on inside somebody else's mind. But in truth you don't know the half of it and you have no way to know anything at all. So what if I don't like my foster father, is it enough reason to plot against him?"

"Yes, in fact. You're such a sad person, you are; you can't have what you want most. In fact, you have no certainty of comfort in the future. He's going to be just a burden to you in old age and if you don't kill him first, he's going to make sure he'll get you." I sigh, ignoring the spastic tremble of my knees. "I can't understand why you deny everything at the face of irrefutable reality. Really, you're being delusional and naive."

"Take it or leave it, prince. That's all I can offer to you." I push on as I feel so close to my victory. All that's missing is the post-war celebration and those firecrackers.

"You think you have the power to..." he whispers slowly, careful not to be heard by a soul. His face turns pallid, incredulous and yet, quiet.

"Kick his ass? No, I don't have it. But I know something that can, and that something happens to be something I have means to possess. That is, if you help me."

"If I help you?" he grins. "What if I don't help you? And what's more, what if I recount to Lord Frieza every small detail of this conversation? You'd think he's going to pardon you a second time? Fat chance."

"Then your last chance vanishes along with me." I state a matter-of-factly, testing his fortitude. Upon closer examination, his mind seems to struggle with reason in great difficulty. One more push and he's giving in, or so I hope. "I own the most powerful secret in the universe, Vegeta. I have access to something great kings of the galaxy have died for over the centuries. You think I'm bluffing? Think again. I happen to be one of the smartest beings ever to exist, my little invention alone speaks big for it. And here I am offering you a chance at survival. Frankly, if you refuse it, you must be insane or tremendously ignorant or both."

"Suppose I agree, what are your conditions?"

"Keep Son Gokou and this household in a safe distance from your men. Keep me alive (you won't need to marry me anymore which is going to be a major advantage for both of us). And most importantly, help me obtain this thing."

"What exactly is this thing?"

"Seven stones. I assume you've heard of their grand history before?"

His eyes widen. If his hair wasn't already standing on his head, it would've done so now.

"The seven stones? You mean, they exist?" he enunciates each syllable so thoroughly as if to refrain me from missing any of them.

"Apparently they do, even as the myths have told and retold. I see no harm in telling you about them; even if you rat on me to Frieza, that doesn't guarantee that the stones are going to fall into your hands. As I've said before, I'm the only one who can tell where they are, discounting those who died for it, of course." I reply. At this point I feel quite disoriented and weary of explaining, but the overwhelming necessity to go on takes over. I've reached the point where I've become immune to physical trials.

"Is it true that they can bring back those from the dead?" he says. He has by now taken on a less disinterested tone and the look on his face suggests a center of focus, sincerely, earnestly.

"That's what legends declare and by statistics, legends rarely lie. We won't know until we see for ourselves. I understand you want someone revived?"

"I do." he says after a moment of clear hesitation.

"Do you want it bad enough to go with me? I mean, it's worth the risk, especially if it may mean seeing your loved one back to life."

"Who says anything about a loved one?" he says, suddenly furious. He confronts me, with his face hardly what it looked like. I must've hit a sore spot there.

"Your face." I say as calmly as I can, striving not to retract from his red-hot anger. "Vegeta, you must really love her to weigh this matter seriously. I can see it's taking its generous toll on you. And as far as I'm concerned nothing's hindering you from it. The temptation is very great, very great indeed..."

"Alright, I'll do it."

"It's a deal then." I smile happily for the first time in many days. Hope isn't dead after all. Yet. "But first you need to take me to Son Gokou. I must make sure he's secure."

"You worry too much about him. You must really love him." he says and to my surprise, he's grinning.

"You bet." I answer.

TBC

A/N: Plot thickens, off they go and next chapter's still not underway. I know. I'm going to work on it soon.


End file.
